On August 3, 2004 by Eden M. Kennedy

Jackson’s Dream

“In my dream I saw a ghost. And I said, Hey, you fucking ghost! And then a baby triceratops came. It was so cute! But I didn’t pet it.”

My Dream

I’m kissing Steve Nash! But — he’s a ballet dancer (which is totally maccers’ fault). Then everything turns into a Sopranos episode, where Charlize Theron is cheating on Steve Buscemi with Charles Oakley, and I’m like, what’s with all the NBA players? I know it’s the off-season, but shouldn’t they be in summer league, instead of haunting the dream-o-sphere? I actually once had to review a book whose main premise was that you can leave your body every night and go have a sort of lucid dreaming sex with other people who have left their bodies. So if you see me hovering over your bed some night, don’t be afraid. If, however, you see Jack hovering over your bed the next night, mad as hell, you better run.

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